


The beast inside

by Rottenfawn



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Character Study, Implied Relationships, M/M, Minor Violence, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24352621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rottenfawn/pseuds/Rottenfawn
Summary: The beast inside Husk was pleased that it finally found a companion.
Relationships: Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84





	The beast inside

There was no reason for Husk to feel like he did now, he told himself.  
After he lost the love of his life by his own hands, the ability to feel positive emotions that weren't a result of excessive alcohol consumption seemed to vanish and left him with nothing but the trauma of his past.  
How he ended up in this situation was still an unanswered question for him.  
Maybe life was playing a trick on him, only giving him the illusion of hope so that it could be destroyed in the future once again.  
Whatever it was, in the end, it didn't change the fact that the veteran recognized the almost forgotten feeling of love.

Husk wasn't a good person.  
He knew he wasn't, that his soul was stained with the blood of the innocent.  
But while he was simply a man haunted by his demons, Alastor was a demon himself.  
The brunette was a walking contradiction towards everything Husk had ever been attracted to.  
There was no purity left in the skinny body that was carrying a rotten core.  
A beast that was hidden behind a bright smile that rarely was reaching the hazel eyes.   
The only reason it didn't come out to claim more lives than it already did was Alastor's ever-declining health.  
When Husk decided to move in, he didn't do it for the reason of solidarity.   
He didn't want to be a caretaker. He wanted his silence and peace, and with being wealthy, Alastor could exactly provide him that.  
First, the veteran couldn't believe his luck.  
The retired radio host didn't want any payment for his service.  
The only expectation he had was spending time with the older man and hearing stories about his past on the battlefield.  
While the memories left him with a bitter taste in his mouth that he drowned in alcohol afterward, he had to admit that it was oddly therapeutic to talk about it regularly.  
Once he started, the words were pouring out of his mouth, and the other was letting him vomit out the sins he committed without an ounce of judgment.  
Instead, there was a fascination in his expression, which made the insanity in his eyes even more evident.  
The beast inside Husk was pleased that it finally found a companion.

He soon learned that he wasn't the only one Alastor had taken in.  
A young woman with the smile that rivaled the brunette's one was also a resident of the villa.  
She seemed to have taken the role of the maid upon her, even when Alastor didn't treat her as such.  
Uncomfortable didn't describe how he first felt around her, as he noticed how she looked at him, monitoring his every move.  
While Niffty was clinging to the young man, she always made sure that there was a particular space between her and Husk.  
She clearly didn't trust him in any way and had no problem in showing that.  
It was unnerving and gave Husk the impression that he wasn't welcome.  
"She needs time to warm up towards men, but don't worry! She's a sweetheart!"  
The talk Alastor and he had about the issue only made him feel the sharp pain of guilt, even if it wasn't his fault in the first place.  
But the other was right, and after a few weeks, a bond was slowly developing between them.  
He managed to find his place in a world that abandoned all faith in him. 

Nothing prepared him for the horrors he would see soon, though.  
If he was a sinner, Alastor was the devil himself or at least was fighting to take over hell once he passed away.  
The first time he found the fresh corpse of a young man in the bathtub, he felt the familiar feeling of dread creeping up his back.  
The blood was staining the white porcelain and creating a beautiful contrast the veteran couldn't ignore.  
It reminded him of how the blood was looking on his own hands.  
He felt hypnotized by the view and slowly reached out to brush shaky fingers over the pale skin.  
The body was still warm, and it triggered the beast inside, that longed to do what he could best; killing.

To this day, Husk didn't understand why he didn't leave after this gruesome discovery.  
He had no clue at all what moved him to clean up the mess together with Niffty, who only seemed to be annoyed that it happened again.  
There was no explanation for why he watched Alastor butchering the body and preparing a meal from it, and while he didn't taste the flesh himself, he attended the man devouring his victim.  
The childish joy in those hazel eyes was sickening but also fascinating to the older man.  
It wasn't like the brunette didn't know what was right and what was wrong. Even when he didn't enjoy the best education, he had been active in educating himself.   
He was definitely aware of the wrongness of his actions, and he didn't even seem concerned about getting caught.  
"Oh, Husky." He laughed as he placed the neatly prepared pieces into a frying pan.   
Husk cursed him for the way the stupid nickname said in his pleasing voice was making him feel.  
"For so many years, I tried to deny who I am. I tried to ignore the problem until it would be gone, and I could freely live the boring normality that life has to offer."   
As he turned around a little, Husk couldn't hide the frown forming on his face.  
The grin on the other was almost splitting his face apart. The once so gentle eyes didn't even appear to be human anymore, glowing in a bright red that resembled the blood he had seen on the bathtub earlier that day.  
"But once I accepted who I am, it has gotten so much easier. Existence isn't a curse but a blessing now, and I am going to embrace it until I can't anymore."  
The veteran didn't even notice that he was stepping closer to the smaller man. His hands automatically closed around his throat, holding it tight without choking him, only showing the capability of murder without a problem.  
"What makes you think that I will let you get away with this?"   
His whisper was dark and filled with aggression.   
It surprised him that the other didn't seem to be nervous at all.  
Furthermore, there was no sign of resistance, which would have been useless anyway.  
Alastor was nothing without a weapon.  
"I don't know, Husky. WILL you let me get away with it? You're actually smarter than the police themselves. Nobody has ever gotten that close to catching me."  
There was clear amusement in his voice, even a certain twisted fondness that flattered Husk but also made him sick to his stomach.  
"Nobody has ever..." He repeated, and suddenly, it dawned on him. All the little pieces that left him confused over the last few weeks were finally forming a puzzle.  
The way Alastor showed excitement and nothing but understanding for the way the veteran felt, for the atrocities he committed in war and how it left him feel powerful in the moment.  
The way he was reading the newspaper religiously every morning, entertained by every appearing articles about murder, grief, and sorrow.  
And how he once told Husk, that he would never judge him for his actions, that it was his right to express himself freely, even when that meant engaging in dangerous and irresponsible behavior.  
"Believe me. I have no right to judge anyone!" He always said with a laughter, waving every possible question off. "I lost that right many years ago, my dear Husker."  
Now, it all made sense.  
"You're the devil of New Orleans."   
His voice was empty and without any emotions. It wasn't a question but a statement.   
He didn't need an answer.

This night, he drank himself into a state of apathy and unconsciousness. He didn't know how he would be able to face the morning and the bitter realization that the fragile hope that had been build up over the last weeks was gone in a second.  
Once again, he felt like a fool for believing in a better future for himself.  
There was simply no peace for people like him.  
He should have known better.

"Did you plan on telling me?"  
The question surprised Alastor and made him look up from the newspaper he was holding in his hands.  
The older man felt like a stranger in the kitchen, even when the situation had played out many times ago.  
The cup of coffee was already cold, and he didn't plan on drinking it either.  
It was just there to give the illusion of a typical morning.  
"That you are a psychopathic serial killer. What else could I mean?"   
Alastor didn't even need to ask for clarification. The curiosity and confusion behind those glasses were telling enough, and Husk cursed himself for finding it sweet, even after knowing the truth.  
"Soon. I actually thought about doing it for quite some time, but I didn't manage to find the right situation for it."  
The veteran chuckled bitterly. "There's no such a thing like the right situation for that kind of shit, Al."  
The newspaper was placed on the table, neatly folded now.  
"And that's where you're wrong, my dear Husker. There is ALWAYS the right situation for everything, and if there isn't, you simply create one."  
He tilted his head and grinned widely, brown hair falling into his face at the motion.  
"Yeah, sure...Whatever you say..."  
He supported his head with his hand, watching his counterpart tiredly. Now that he took a closer look at him, he noticed how exhausted Alastor looked, and a smirk was creeping on his lips.  
He didn't seem to be the only one who didn't get any sleep, huh?  
A tiny voice in the back of his head was telling him that the other was experiencing some kind of gilt for carrying this secret way too long with him, but maybe that was silly.  
If he didn't feel guilty for taking lives, how could he for anything else?  
"And? Tell me how you would have murdered Niffty and me. There must be some twisted little fantasy scenario you would have liked to play out."  
The way the brunette looked at him could only be described as shocked.  
"...excuse me?" His voice wasn't as soft and pleasant as always but strained, filled with a certain kind of annoyance and disbelief.  
"You heard me right, Al. Now I'm curious. We both know you don't stand a fight against me without the support of a weapon."  
Alastor slowly stood up from his chair, the fragile figure tensing at the subject matter, expression unreadable.  
"How dare you ever assume that I would harm either of you?!"   
Husk only raised a brow at the unfamiliar change of character. "How dare I? Oh, you know, just the knowledge that I am dysfunctional and not as entertaining as you hoped I would be. Niffty might be good for being a maid, but I am simply a bo-"  
The attempt of the younger man to jump at his taller counterpart, aiming for his throat in the attack, failed miserably.   
Years of serving in the army taught Husk every fighting technique known to man, with or without weapons.  
The table almost broke from the sheer force he slammed Alastor onto with.  
It was way too easy to kill him here and now and put an end to the legacy of terror he caused.  
"Go on, Husky." He almost purred, fear entirely absent in his voice.  
"You know how simple it is for you to satisfy the beast, don't you? You did it for so many years under the guise of serving your country. It's almost funny that you direct such anger towards me while knowing very well that we are the same. I just don't need a scapegoat."  
The words the other spoke made the beast in his chest roar.  
Alastor was right, and both of them were aware of it.  
The older man didn't notice the tears that were running over his cheeks and the hand that was placed on one of them.  
"Why are you doing this to me?" He whispered, leaning into the gentle and toxic touch.  
"Because I know how it feels to pretend and deny yourself. Because I know how much it hurts that people only love the mask you're wearing."  
There was insanity in his eyes, pure insanity that would awake fear in anyone but Husk, who instead felt comforted and understood.  
"Because I value the fire inside your eyes more than anyone of those fools out there could. They love the soldier, the hero, the one who gave up himself for them."  
Smaller hands wrapped around the ones around Alastor's throat.   
His grip had already loosened.  
"Because I love the beast, the truth, the real you. I want you to feel alive instead of simply surviving. You deserve it."  
He didn't know when exactly he collapsed on Alastor, bawling into his chest like a child, letting out every little bit of pain his body had to offer.  
After a lifetime of being abandoned, the beast had found a home, and its claws wouldn't ever let go of it.

In the end, there was still no reasonable explanation behind his decision to stay.  
Now and then, he engaged in Alastor's huntings, but he mostly acted as his guardian, to make sure no victim would harm his friend.  
He knew that this wouldn't be able to go on forever.   
The brunette was battling his declining health, and sooner rather than later, he would be unable to satisfy his cravings.  
Whenever they were spending a calm evening together, all three of them, he never failed to notice that the beast inside him was quiet, and he fell asleep to the sound of the purring of the ones that were hidden inside his friends.


End file.
